Interrupted
by Sakubato
Summary: the Golden trio return to Hogwarts to complete their education, but what will happen when Hermione comes to Harry after a fight with Ron? Will they finally confess their repressed feelings for each other? Will that confession change everything? Will Ron survive finding out?
1. Chapter 1

**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK**

Harry looked up from the advanced transfiguration text he'd been studying to look at the door that had just interrupted him. He had been trying to read the bloody book for the last half hour while relaxing on his bed. He wasn't sure if he should feel the gratitude he felt for the interruption, or annoyance. He really did need to read this chapter for his essay, but he wasn't making much progress so maybe a break was what he needed after all.

"Come in," he called, reflecting that he was still getting used to having his own room at school. After confirming they would be returning for a final year, he and Hermione had both received headship badges. To say he had been surprised to have that badge fall into his lap would be an understatement. Hermione's was expected, he'd known it would be her from their class since third year after all. His badge however, felt wrong at first. He'd tried to send it back, stating that there had to be some mistake, that Headmistress McGonagall had sent it to the wrong person. The return letter had assured him that she had not, then proceeded to list the reasons why. First she claimed he'd earned it, which he didn't really believe. Next she had pointed out that headship was at the Headmistress's discretion, which he still felt like favoritism, maybe even bribery. Lastly though, was that headship was about who could lead the school and hold the respect of both students and staff. He'd snorted at that, which had of course caused Hermione to read the response over his shoulder.

Once Hermione had finished berating him for trying to return it in the first place, she sat him down and reviewed McGonagall's points one at a time. Earned it: Troll, Stone, Basilisk, Black and Lupin, Triwizard Tournament, Dumbledore's Army. He'd tried pointing out he hadn't planned any of those, but she countered with the fact that made it even more impressive. Then she'd asked when he'd ever seen Professor McGonagall show the least bit of favoritism. When he had been unable to, she merely humphed and moved on to the third item: leading the school. He'd tried to argue he'd broken just about every rule the school had, and why would anyone follow him? She'd waited until he was done, then started explaining that while yes, the DA had started as a study group, it had become more, with _him_ leading them. Then there was the Department of Mysteries. Where they'd known it was probably a trap, yet not only had they gone anyway, but Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna had followed as well. Lastly there was the Battle of Hogwarts. The school had chosen him that night, when Voldemort had offered to let everyone go if they turned him over. Three quarters of the school had stood between him and the Slytherins when Pansy had hollered for someone to grab him. Everyone had even deferred to him after, looking to _him _to tell them what needed to be done. It had taken a while, but eventually Hermione had convinced him to keep the badge, even if he still occasionally felt he didn't deserve it.

Harry was pulled back to the present as he looked up to see Hermione entering and his heart skipped a beat when he saw her. It wasn't anything in particular that caused it, just that it was her. _Stop it_ he told himself, shaking his head mentally. He'd realized shortly after they'd started the hunt that his feelings for Hermione were not the kind one has for just friends, _especially _not a sister, and they hadn't been for some time. He'd never shown the smallest hint to her of that awareness. She'd chosen Ron, and if he made her happy then he'd respect her choice and suffer in silence. The problem was she wasn't happy, and if the current redness of her eyes, the puffiness around said eyes, and the tear tracks across her face were any indication; she was _very_ unhappy. Unfortunately for Harry's mental discipline, odds were good that Ron was to blame. Again.

"What's wrong?" he asked, setting the book on the side table and sitting up fully. Hermione didn't say anything as she closed the door behind her and half walked, half staggered across the room to him. She met him as he made it to his feet, not stopping as she hugged him fiercely and they fell back onto the bed. Harry held her tight, ignoring the sensation of her body so fully against his as she began to shake and shudder. He felt his chest start to dampen as her tears soaked into his top, and he just held her, letting her get it out. It wasn't the first time she'd cried on him, though if it was Ron's fault again, he may have to hide a body before the night was over.

Ron may be his best mate, though recently that had become more questionable, but Hermione was his best friend. He had once been both, but ever since fourth year Hermione had become his best friend. It really was simple, Ron hadn't believed him until after the dragon. Hermione never doubted him. It really came down to that. Ron had always been a bit of a fair weather friend, always there during the good times, less visible or just absent during the bad. His temper tantrum and departure during the hunt had almost severed their friendship if Harry was being honest. Not just because, once again, Ron had abandoned them, but more because of how bad he'd hurt Hermione by doing it. A part of Harry had been glad to be rid of Ron, much as he hated to admit it. With Ron gone, Harry and Hermione had found a simple rhythm, simply being, and a bit more happiness despite the accursed locket. He had even almost kissed her, the night they danced in the tent. It had been so close, but he'd chickened out, fearing he was taking advantage of her.

Then he had caught them kissing during the final battle, and his heart had broken. She'd chosen him again and he had no place to be jealous. That's what he told himself anyway, but it had changed him. He did feel jealousy, he did feel regret. He also didn't feel what he had for Ginny either. It had taken just a couple of days to figure out that whatever had been between him and Ginny was gone now. It had been a difficult discussion, that day in the orchard at the Burrow, but they had parted on relatively friendly terms at least. Though he had never said a word about Hermione, or his feelings for her, he was pretty sure Ginny knew, some girl magic or something. It was a few weeks later, after he'd taken Hermione home after one of her and Ron's fights, that he'd found her waiting for him at Grimmauld place. By the end of the resulting conversation Ginny had simply smiled lightly, almost non-existently. She told him to have patience, Hermione would realize her mistake eventually, and then she'd been through the floo before he could recover from his shock at the statement.

Given the frequency of the fights between the pair, Harry hoped it would be sooner rather than later, if for no other reason than Hermione would stop crying. Speaking of which…

Harry looked down as the sobs seemed to subside, and he heard a sniffle or two. He felt Hermione relax in his arms, settling it and rolling to his left so she was snuggled into the crook of his arm instead of on top of him.

"Sorry," she whispered, sniffing again.

"I told you, I'm always here for you." Harry said, rubbing her back lightly. "Do I need to send someone to retrieve a body or can he make it to the hospital wing on his own?"

Hermione gave a wry chuckle, not much but a little. She wiped her eyes and spoke, her voice harsh.

"I ruined your shirt…"

"Don't worry about it," he soothed, "it's one you got me anyway. Do you want to talk about it or just lay here?"

"Can I really just lay here?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

"Whatever you need Hermione," Harry replied, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"What I need?" Hermione sighed sadly, "What I need is a place to hide his body… maybe someplace to teach him the error of his ways first."

"I'm going to have to kill him, aren't I?"

"What? No." Hermione sat up a bit, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself you know."

"I do know," Harry agreed, "but every time he hurts you like this…."

Harry let the statement hang in the air, suspended between the two, and a still silence settled over them. Harry tried not to think about Hermione snuggled into his side, about the way it felt having her pressed so close, how it made his body feel all… electrified.

"What was it this time?" Harry asked several minutes later.

"It's silly really..." Hermione sighed.

"Hermione..."

"OK fine, well it was my birthday yesterday, as you know."

"Yup, hope you liked my present," Harry agreed

"I do, in fact, I'm wearing it now," She said, holding up her right wrist, her sleeve pulled back just enough to see a gold charm bracelet snug around her wrist, a book, an Otter, a tent, and an infinity sign dangling from it. "And that's part of the problem. Oh no, not you Harry," she quickly assured him, "but what do you think Ron got me?"

"Well," Harry considered the question, "before I would have guessed a book you already had or weren't interested in, maybe some candy you don't like. Now though…"

"You're right," Hermione cut him off, anger in her voice, "That's exactly what he got me: a copy of Hogwarts: A History and a bag of ton-tongue toffees."

"Just a guess, but it was the most recent edition?" Harry asked even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer already, "The one you've been quoting for the last eight years?"

"Got it in one," Hermione snarked. She looked like she was about to say more, to continue, but stopped. Instead, she curled herself back into his chest, as if trying to suck all the warmth out of him. They lay there for a while, Harry idly caressing her back and Hermione just soaking up the comfort before she once again broke the silence.

"Harry?" Her voice was cracking, strain and fear lacing it.

"Yes?" He responded, unconsciously holding her tighter, trying to protect her from whatever she feared.

"Why don't you love me?" She asked, her voice full of fear and rejection.

"I...what?" Harry was stunned by the question.

"Why don't you love me?" Hermione repeated, anger now tingeing her tone, "Why couldn't we be together? What was so wrong with me that you can't love me?"

"Hermione," Harry's resolve was cracking, "There's nothing wrong with you, absolutely nothing at all."

"Then why was there never an us?" she demanded, rolling up to face him, "Why did I have to settle for that ungrateful, unreliable, idiotic…"

"Hermione," Harry cut her off, then paused to gather himself. "Where is this coming from? What happened?"

"It isn't any one thing Harry," Hermione sighed, deflated. "It's a lot of things. Our fight, our breakup, was just the latest in a long line of them, and I just can't take it. I have two people I really care about. Both of whom I love or could possibly love romantically. Ron was admittedly not my first choice, but he at least seemed to want to be with me, despite the multitude of issues we have. Then there's you, the first boy I… I loved, but who doesn't love me back."

"Hermione…" Harry tried, he really did, but he couldn't let her think _that._ He just couldn't. "I've never said I don't love you."

"I know you love me as a friend Harry," Hermione sighed, trying to get up, "But that's not what I mean."

"I know," Harry held her tight, determined to see this through and preventing her from leaving, "And I wasn't talking about friendship love."

"I… But… what?" Hermione was speechless, something Harry would have normally been proud of accomplishing. "What do you mean then?"

"Well," Harry dove in full-bore, figuring if he was going to tell her, he might as well tell her everything. "I finally realized just how much you mean to me over a year ago, I realized I didn't... No, I couldn't imagine living in a world without you. I started thinking about why that was, and what exactly it meant."

"And what did it mean?" Hermione asked softly.

"Well, I've never really had a good example of what love was," Harry admitted, "Not what it felt like or how to deal with it, so it took me a while but I realized that I was in love with you. Unfortunately, I never felt I was worthy of you. Plus you had made it clear you wanted Ron, so I never let you see. I wanted you to be happy, and if that meant Ron, I would hold my peace."

"You… a year?" Hermione stammered, "You mean you've been suffering in silence for a year? I was trying to push myself into a relationship with someone else and you just kept quiet?"

"I thought it was what you wanted," Harry tried to roll away, but Hermione held _him _tight this time. "Your happiness was more important."

"You selfless, idiotic, stupid boy," Hermione sighed exasperated, "I'm the one not worthy of you, but I still love you. Ok, maybe I never told you that but I thought it was pretty obvious…"

"I never had a clue," Harry admitted.

"Well here's one even you should get," Hermione said softly, tenderly, and leaned in to kiss him.

Now, Harry had been kissed before, by Cho in fifth year, and more recently by Ginny, even Luna had stolen a kiss after Slughorn's party sixth year. Not one of those kisses held a candle to kissing Hermione. It was light and dreamy, so light in fact, Harry thought he was dreaming at first. He leaned in a little, feeling the pressure of her lips on his increase, and she responded in kind. Slowly, the kiss built, deepening and becoming passionate as each began to pour their feelings into the kiss. Hermione's tongue teased his lips, seeking entrance which he happily granted, his tongue meeting hers and starting their own little dance. Nor were hands idle, Harry felt her hands circle his neck, holding him close as his tangled in her hair and spilled around her side to her back, pulling her body back against his.

Harry felt her hands teasing the hem of his pajama shirt, her fingers setting his skin on fire, and knew he had to stop them. He really, really didn't want to, but knew they had to.

"Stop," he gasped, breaking their kiss and pushing her shoulders away gently. "We need to stop."

"No," Hermione replied fiercely, trying to pull him back to her, "I don't want to."

"I don't either," He assured her, "I really don't, but you're Ron's girlfriend…"

"Ex-Girlfriend," Hermione retorted, trying to kiss him again, "Just a bit ago in fact."

"Even so," Harry used every ounce of restraint to stop from giving in, "You are still not thinking straight, you're hurt and looking for comfort. I get that, and as much as I really, _really_ want to continue this, I can't take advantage of that."

"Harry," Hermione growled in frustration.

"No, I care too much to let this be something you may regret in the morning," Harry finally succeeded in rolling her off of him, "I'm sorry, but I can't do that to you."

"I won't regret this," Hermione assured him, cuddling into his side. "I promise I won't."

"I'm sure you think that," Harry sighed, accepting her curled into his side, "But given the emotional roller coaster you're on; Can you honestly say one hundred percent you want this here, now?"

"Of course I…" Hermione trailed off, her voice turning thoughtful. She continued a few seconds later, "No, I guess I can't, not one hundred percent."

"Then don't, let it settle and we can figure it out more in the morning."

"But… Fine. Can I at least stay here? It's not like it's the first time we've slept in the same bed and I don't want to be alone tonight."

"I guess I can't say no to that, never could deny a damsel in distress," Harry grinned at her as she gave him a mock offended look.

"Ok, well I'm not sleeping in these," She waved at her jeans and blouse. "I'll be right back."

Hermione rolled off Harry's bed and started towards the door to their shared common room. She paused about halfway to the door, then rather than continuing, she turned towards Harry's wardrobe, walked over, and opened it. Pulling out a red shirt Harry couldn't identify before she closed the wardrobe door and made her way to the bathroom. He heard her puttering for a few minutes and then the light went out and the doorway opened. In that doorway stood Hermione, hair as wild and untamed as ever and clad in one of his quidditch jerseys. It was a bit large for her and came down to mid-thigh on her, but to Harry, it was like he was seeing an honest to Merlin Goddess.

"Wow," he breathed in awe. "I've never thought a quidditch jersey could be sexy until now."

Hermione just blushed as she walked back over to the bed, scooting under the covers to join him in the large four poster. She kissed him lightly on the lips again, then curled into his side. "Goodnight Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

***KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK***

Harry started at the hammering on the door to the common room. Still groggy and yet oddly satisfied, he sat up. At least he tried to sit up, something heavy held him down on his right side. Looking down at the weight, he found a mass of bushy brown hair covering his chest. Hermione.

The night before came back to him, Hermione's distraught entrance, the frank conversation and their resulting sleeping arrangements, then talking into the night. Breathing deeply and savoring the smell of her shampoo he groaned as the knocking, no, it was banging, came again. Sighing, he eased himself out from under Hermione, despite her unconscious attempts to keep him there with her. Slipping a pillow under her head to keep her from waking, he looked around for his missing pajama top which had been discarded the night before. Giving up, he made his way groggily out of the bedroom, securing the door once he was out.

"What?" he groused, easing the common room door open to reveal a distraught looking Ron.

"Need to talk to Hermione." Ron shoved past Harry, striding angrily over to Hermione's bedroom door.

"Good morning to you too," Harry snarked as Ron started banging on Hermione's door. "You can stop anytime you know."

"Can't, need to talk to Hermione." Ron continued to bang on her door.

"Well, she's not in there so you might as well stop before you hurt you hand," Harry informed him.

"Where is she?" Ron demanded, turning back to Harry at last.

"What is going on Ron?" Harry sighed, "What is so bloody important that you're up this early on a Saturday?"

"She broke up with me last night," Ron finally admitted, "I need to talk to her to tell her to get back together with me."

"Let me get this straight," Harry tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, "You two fought, _again_, she broke up with you, and you expect that just telling her to get back together with you is all it will take? No apology, no discussion of whatever you fought about, just telling her to do it?"

"Well yeah, she's my witch. She has to do what I tell her," Ron agreed as if it was as true as the grass being green.

"You really expect…." Harry trailed off, then tried a different tact. "What did you fight about?"

"Huh?"

"Your fight last night, what did you fight about?"

"Well, she was going on about some Arithmancy stuff," Ron waved dismissively, "I asked her what she was so obsessed about since she wouldn't need it to raise our kids."

"You didn't," Harry asked, honestly in awe of Ron's stupidity.

"Didn't what?" Ron's confusion was evident. "Anyway, she got all upset over that for some reason, no idea why. Bloody crazy she is."

"Ron," Harry asked, trying a different track, "Assuming you manage to get back together with her by some miracle, how do you see then next few years going?"

"Well, we'll get engaged after graduation. Marry. Then she'll raise the kids and we'll be happy," Ron explained happily. "What else would happen?"

"So you plan on working while she raises your kids?" Harry asked to clarify, "She won't work at all?"

"Well, maybe until we're married," Ron conceded, "But once she's pregnant she'll have the kids to care for."

"So you expect Hermione, Brightest Witch of our Age, top of our class, the girl who used a bloody time turner to take all the electives Hogwarts offered, to just be a housewife?" Harry tried to keep the incredulity out of his voice, he really did. He failed.

"Well yeah, what else is she going to do?"

"What else would I do?" Hermione's voice surprised both of them as she cut into the conversation, "I have plans Ronald Weasley, I have hopes and dreams. And while being a mother is among them, being a stay at home housewife is definitely _not_."

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, jumping up and turning to her. He was two steps to her before he realized where she had come from and what she was wearing. She stood in the doorway to Harry's bedroom, still wearing his quidditch jersey, hands on her hips. "Hermione?"

"Ronald," Hermione replied icily, "Do you even remember what my dreams are? What I want to do and why? Do you even care?"

"Why are you..." Ron's face started to get red, his eyes darting from her to Harry's bedroom door and back. "Did you… but…." He turned back to Harry, fury across his face as he dove at his former best friend and now current worst enemy. "You bastard!"

Harry sidestepped Ron's charge, letting the irate redhead slide past him without catching him. Ron turned, this time throwing a punch at Harry, a flying right that missed wide. Swinging again, Ron squeaked in surprise as Harry caught his punch, grabbing the wrist and pulling him. Overbalanced, Ron crashed over the couch and struggled to get up. He stopped halfway up as he faced the glowing wand tip held steady in Hermione's hand.

"Stop," Hermione's voice could have frozen dragon fire. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"What am I doing?" Ron asked, fury seeping through his voice, "I'm about to beat Harry to a pulp for sleeping with my girlfriend."

"First off, I'm not your girlfriend," Hermione informed him acidly, "You lost the right to call me that yesterday. Second, it didn't look like you were succeeding very well."

"Doesn't matter, mates don't sleep with their mates girlfriend!" Ron retorted hotly, starting to rise before backing down under Hermione's wand point once more.

"I. AM. NOT. YOUR. GIRLFRIEND," Hermione accentuated each word with a point of her wand. "I tried, I really did, but you never did. You expect everything to just come to you, to be easy. You don't even realize how _cruel _you are." Her eyes started to water. "You left us for months, and just expected everything to be perfectly fine when you got back. This summer you were grieving, I understand that. But taking it out on me? Yelling at me whenever you were upset? Not acceptable. Then my birthday… Did you even think about what you got me?" Tears were streaming down her face now, and Harry moved up beside her hugging her to his side.

"I… he still…." Ron blustered.

"I offered a friend comfort when she needed it," Harry said softly. "We talked a lot last night Ron, and we need to talk more today. Maybe we will end up together," he smiled at Hermione, "I hope so, seems we were both thinking the other couldn't return our feelings."

"I knew it, I knew you cheated on me," Ron accused Hermione.

"No, she didn't." Harry cut off his rant, "You broke up, and you hurt her so bad it took almost an hour before she could even tell me what happened. You gave up any claim when you caused her to hurt like that."

"But she's…"

"Not your girlfriend." Harry continued, "Yes, she slept in my bed because she was so exhausted after she broke down, she didn't want to leave. But think about this Ron, did you even ask if I slept in my bed? Maybe I slept on the couch? Did you consider that? No, because you knew how we felt and assumed."

"I think you need to leave Ron," Hermione said softly but forcefully, "You've done enough damage today."

"But you're my girlfriend, we need to talk," Ron protested.

"No," Hermione said flatly, her wand finally lowering. "No, I'm not your girlfriend. Whatever else happens, whatever else changes, that will never happen again. We're done Ron, you need to accept that and leave."

"Hermione…" Ron trailed off as he rose to face her, but found himself facing a hard-faced Harry instead.

"She asked you to leave." Harry let the anger bleed into his voice, his eyes dark. "You better go before I have to help you."

"What, so you and the slag can have another…"

Ron never finished his sentence. He never saw Harry's fist as the punch knocked the volatile redhead out cold. Looking down at the crumpled form on their floor, Harry turned to Hermione.

"Sorry, I couldn't let him call you that."

"I… I understand Harry," Hermione sighed, "I guess a part of me still believed he really cared about me, but not anymore."

"So what now?" Harry asked a few moments later, after depositing Ron outside their rooms and silencing the door. He rested his head against the back of the door, afraid to turn around and face Hermione. "I mean…"

"I know what you mean Harry," Hermione interrupted him, slipping her arms around his waist and hugging him from behind. "I think we need to talk. We need to decide where we go from here, and then we continue where we stopped last night."

Hermione felt Harry stiffen against her at the last. He turned and took her in his arms, holding her tight. They held each other, taking comfort from each other for a minute, then separated. Hermione took his hand, leading him back into his bedroom and to his bed.

"First," she began, sitting on the edge of his bed, her legs dangling slightly, "Perfect world, what do you want?"

"I…" Harry paused, considering, "Perfect world? Date you, love you, graduate, and then marry you. Find a job I enjoy that lets us spend time together, and you in a job you don't overwork yourself at. Kids… Grandkids… A family full of love."

"I see," Hermione blushed, "And how long before you would want this to happen?"

"I'm not sure," Harry responded, sitting next to her and sliding an arm around her, "Part of me is greedy, wanting you all to myself for a while. Another wishes you were already pregnant with our child. It sometimes feels like we've been dating for years already, but other times it feels so new, so wonderful I want to explore every aspect of it."

"Harry…"

"I know it's cheesy," he admitted, "but ever since I figured out what I feel, I looked back at our time together and realized other than the kissing and such, we really have been dating for the last seven years."

"I guess you have a point," she agreed, leaning into his embrace and resting her head on his shoulder. "What about school, or after? What do you want to do for work?"

"You know," Harry sighed, "I think that's the first time anyone has asked me that outside the one counseling session with McGonagall. I thought about being an auror once, but I feel like that's what I've been doing since I started school."

"I can see that," Hermione snuggled closer, "and what are your alternatives?"

"I want to give back, help rebuild the world."

"Have you thought about teaching?" she asked, hope in her voice.

"Not really," Harry pondered, then looked down at her, "Why?"

"Well, I know you think of Hogwarts as your home," she began, the blushing coloring her cheeks nicely, "And Professors McGonagall and Flitwick have both offered me apprenticeships for masteries. McGonagall even mentioned having me teach at least some the younger year students if I accepted. Since Professor Monson is only here for the year, same with Auror Proudfoot, I thought maybe if you could work something out with her to teach Defense, like you did with us in the DA, then we could be here, together…"

It was quiet for several minutes as Harry considered, thinking through the options, something he wasn't used to doing. He thought through the possibilities and opportunities. Stay at Hogwarts? Teach full time? Was that something he really wanted?

"Hermione?" he finally asked.

"Yes?"

"I notice a lot of ifs in that idea." Harry turned to face her, "But one thing you seem to have taken for granted is that we'll be together. It seems like a plan to help us stay close, to not put distance between us."

"It is Harry," Hermione tried to melt into him, "I finally have you, and don't intend to let you go."

"You don't?" he grinned, "What about your dreams?"

"My dreams?" she sighed, "My dreams came true last night when you said you love me. Now I intend to keep that dream alive, every day, for the rest of our days."

"I see," Harry sighed, "what about changing the world? Dragging wizards into the 20th century kicking and screaming? What do you want to do for work?"

"That?" he heard her smile in her voice, "That'll be my hobby. As for work, well, I want to do something constructive, something that means something to me." She paused for a minute, then continued, "I know before I talked about becoming the Minister, changing laws and forcing change, to make a better world. The war opened my eyes to a flaw in that. It would be pointless without someone to do it with and someone to leave that better world to. That someone is you and I want that better world for our children."

Harry couldn't stop himself, he turned to her and kissed her, hard, passionately. He poured every pent up feeling, every hope and dream into that kiss. Hermione responded right back, returning passion for passion, desire for desire. Her hands came up to pull him closer, falling back and pulling him with her to where they were laying atop his bed, his body hovering over hers.

Once she felt his weight above her, her hands meandered downs, tracing the muscles of his chest down until she found the hem of his pajama pants. Her fingers trailed fire across his abs as she pulled his close. He broke their kiss and looked at her, questioningly.

"Please," she begged, "I want this, all of it. No doubts, no regrets."

**LEMON START**

He saw the burning desire in her eyes and resumed their kiss. He moaned and moved from kissing her lips to her throat as her hands trailed electric shocks across his Quidditch tones muscles. His lips found the tender spot just behind her left ear that made her arch her back and groan in response.

Hermione hooked one leg, twisted her shoulders, and rolled them so suddenly Harry found himself on his back with her atop him. Grinning she gave him a long, deep kiss before sitting up above him. Harry watched in awe as she peeled his Jersey off her, leaving her sitting atop his hips in nothing but a pair of black lace knickers. His eyes followed the hem of the shirt as it passed her sexy thighs, taught hips, and silky smooth belly. His eyes went wide and breath caught as the garment cleared her high firm breasts, capped with rosy pink nipples. Her breasts were round and luscious, the perfect size to fit in his hands. He proved this as his hands followed the path his shirt had taken as it was removed, feeling Hermione's smooth skin beneath his fingers as they trailed up her sides. Hermione arched her back and purred as his hands glanced at the sides of her tits and his thumbs scraped over her puckered nipples.

"Harry," she panted, placing her hands over his and moving them to fully envelope her breasts. She started to rock and grind, feeling his arousal grow beneath her, then leaned back down to kiss him some more. Their tongues battled and chanced, his hands exploring the responses he got by kneading, teasing, and thoroughly pleasing her breasts. Once again they had to break their kiss for air and this time, Harry moved his kissed down her neck. She arched her head back in response, as he made his way down past her clavicle to the swell of her chest. Hermione scooted up, allowing him to continue his assault and take one of her perky nipples between his lips.

Hermione groaned and panted as Harry ravished her breasts, her nipples hardening almost painfully as his tongue flicked first one, then the other. She felt heat pool in her belly and her pussy gush in response to his ministrations. She was ready, she couldn't wait any longer.

Sliding down his body, Hermione grasped Harry's pajama bottoms, and his boxers, and pulled. He groaned as his swollen cock sprang into view, and Hermione paused to appreciate what she had revealed. She guessed he was about eight inches long from base to pulsing tip and maybe three or four around. Unable to resist temptation, she leaned down and kissed the tip, causing Harry to groan and his head to arch back. Swiftly finishing removing his pants, her knickers joined his clothes on the floor as she crawled on hands and knees up his body.

"Hermione," Harry groaned as she resumed her place, her sopping core atop his aching member. His hands held her still, looking deep into her eyes, he asked, "Are you sure?"

Hermione didn't answer in words, she simply nodded and reached between them, grasping his cock and positioning herself over him. She rolled her hips, shuddering a little as his tip rubbed her clit, and finally she nestled it at her entrance. Harry stayed still, braced, as she slid him fully inside her, her velvety walls hugging his cock tight. He felt a little pressure before it gave way and before Hermione could even start to grimace he kissed her hard.

Hermione felt so full, like she was being split in two and took deep breaths as she adjusted to having her insides stretched so wonderfully. As the pain of losing her virginity passed, she started to rock forward and back a little more each time. Harry broke their kiss to throw his head back in bliss, the velvet walls of Hermione's pussy gripping him in a way he'd never imagined.

Hermione sat up and groaned as a new feeling of fullness washed over her. Harry's hands moved up from her hips to once more attach themselves to her bouncing breasts. She knew she probably wouldn't cum the first time, but this was good enough, having this, with Harry, was enough. Beneath her he groaned again, and it sent a little jolt of joy through her.

"Not gonna…" Harry moaned beneath her, "Last long… are you?"

"I won't," she responded, speeding up a little, "Doesn't matter. Cum, inside me, please." Hermione let her head roll back as a wave of bliss washed over her, reveling in the feeling of Harry's cock in her. He groaned louder, unintelligibly, and she felt as if his cock grew a little and twitched before she felt a hot jet pulse into her, then another. She felt shot after shot of his seed entering her, filling her as his hips thrust and jerked. The feeling his release inside her, of his seed coating her insides, did something within her as she shuddered in pleasure and came undone, her unexpected orgasm rolling over her in waves of pure pleasure.

**Lemon end**

"Hmmmm," she purred, leaning back down as they came down from their highs and kissing him, "I think you liked that."

"Definitely," he agreed breathlessly as she rolled off him and curled into him, their combined juices seeping out and down her leg. "You ok?"

"Yeah," she snuggled closer, feeling a need to be as close to Harry as she could, "A little sore, but that's expected. Can we just lay here for a bit?"

"As long as you want," he agreed, his arm pulling her closer, "But don't we need to cast a spell about now?"

"A spell?"

"So no babies come?"

"Do you want me to?" Hermione looked up, a mix of hope and fear in her eyes.

"Not really, but I think we should," he sighed, "As incredible as I think you'll look pregnant, we probably ought to wait until after school for that."

Harry looked out over the sea of young faces in the great hall, smiling as he watched his oldest daughter marching up the aisle between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. In front of her was her mother, glowing and with a slight waddle, leading her and the rest of the new first year students to the front of the hall to be sorted. As they reached him, standing waiting with the sorting hat and stool, he placed a kiss on Hermione's cheek, and a loving hand on her swollen belly. As the Sorting Hat sang his song, and Hermione leaned back into his embrace, both his hands rubbing the bulge of their unborn child, he reflected back on the last eleven years.

The fallout from the confrontation with Ron was smaller than they'd expected. Once the rest of his family found out what had happened, they'd backed the couple. Well, most had, Molly had held out for a little bit, silently hoping Ginny could somehow win Harry back. Ginny had tried her best to be supportive as the sting of truly losing Harry was hard for her, but she too came around. Luckily, the rest of the family was firmly on their side.

They had managed to only make it until spring of that last year before Hermione discovered that even the charm doesn't always work. A week of random nausea had forced her to see Madam Pomfrey, and that led to a rather joyous celebration that night in their quarters. It had been an open secret by Christmas that only one room in the heads' quarters was slept in.

True to her word, Hermione had drug Harry to talk to McGonagall, and between the three of them, arranged for Harry to work with Amelia Bones of the DMLE to earn his Defense mastery while teaching, just as Hermione would be. This led to a slight scramble when it was discovered Hermione was pregnant, but McGonagall had helped immensely with the scheduling and assured them they'd not suffer for it.

He had proposed immediately upon finding out Hermione was pregnant, which she had started to refuse as unnecessary until he pointed out he obviously wanted to anyway since he'd already had the ring. She finally said yes and the day after graduation, Hermione Jean Granger became Hermione Jean Potter, Associate Professor of Transfiguration.

Then, November 2nd 1999, Rose Ariana Potter had been born, and everything changed. Harry didn't think one little child could change his entire view of the world, but he had been wrong. Any impulse to act rashly or make a spur of the moment decision was curbed, unless it was in some way related to spoiling the adorable bushy haired, green eyed gorgeous little girl currently waiting to be sorted, then it was enhanced.

Over the next ten years, the two favorite teachers in Hogwarts added two, soon to be three, more Potter children to their brood. Dark haired Korbyn James was a product of their celebration following their first masteries and promotion to full professor two years after they graduated. Jane Lillian was Hermione's clone, right down to her love of books, and had just turned four. This year was the first year that they had taken up shared duties as Co-Deputy Heads, a job they'd taken as a farewell request from Professor Flitwick when he'd retired last year.

"Potter, Rose."

Harry jerked back to the present as the next new student to be sorted was called, and he looked down at his beaming daughter as she took her seat on the sorting stool. The hat was placed on her head, humphing and snorting, apparently having a grand conversation with his daughter before it finally pronounced its decision.

"Better be…"


End file.
